


The Sea

by silvertrails



Series: Fourth Age and Beyond [19]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Maglor and Daeron receive a visit and a gift.
Relationships: Daeron/Maglor | Makalaurë, Nielíqui/Ómar (Tolkien), Ossë/Uinen (Tolkien), Salmar/Ulmo (Tolkien)
Series: Fourth Age and Beyond [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1247306
Kudos: 6





	The Sea

**The Sea  
By CC  
March 2020**

I make no money with this. I’m only having fun writing the stories. 

This is my entry for the SWG March Challenge. My prompt was The Aquarium, part of The Carnival of the Animals - A Zoological Fantasy, by John Ogdon. 

* * *

Maglor sat alone on a cliff, eyes fixed on the sea. These were trying times, and yet the new virus had no power over him. Maglor was living close in a house he had bought for himself and Daeron. Normally, they were two solitary travelers that wore masks when passing through a mortal town or city, just to blend in. They had come here to rest.

The Secondborn were mostly in their houses now, and the death toll in the whole world was over fifty thousand. Even young people had died. Maglor and Daeron had been helping as voluntaries in many hospitals, but even they needed a reprieve from so much pain. 

Especially Daeron, who had seen and suffered enough pain in his life.

Water rose and a mist of blue and golden droplets fell on Maglor’s side. The next moment Ómar was sitting beside him, his blue eyes troubled, his long, dark hair loose.

“The Secondborn have forgotten how to take care of Arda,” Ómar said softly. “I feared that the end of Time was close, but my lord Ulmo is confident that the Secondborn will make it through this sickness that afflicts them and let Arda heal too.”

“They have been through terrible plagues before, though nothing like this. Arda has been sick, but she is slowly healing, I can feel it.”

“Yes, and the waters are healing too. My lord Ulmo is doing what he can, but even his power cannot repair so much damage. Not unless the Secondborn cooperate.”

Maglor sighed softly. “They are afraid, and they are doing what they can. It is… Even children have died, Ómar.”

“I know. I came to see you, but it is Daeron who worries me the most. His voice is gone again.”

“Yes, he will not sing, and that only happens when he has been through more pain that he can sustain. He is sleeping now, and I am here only because he wanted me to take some fresh air.”

“And because you also need a rest. Your needs are important too, my friend.”

Maglor said nothing. He was no longer singing alone on the shores of Arda like some bards and scholars used to believe, but he was bone tired. Even Elves, or perhaps mostly Elves, who lived long lives, needed certain structure, a sense of belonging. Maglor had that in his history classes, and Daeron in his career as an opera singer at Paris. Maglor could be preparing virtual classes now, but the pandemic had caught him in the period after his last “persona” got old and retired. In a few years one of his descendants would return to Cambridge. As for Daeron, he had collapsed in his last performance at the Palais Garnier, as part of a supposed illness that would prevent him from performing again. For all his sadness when he was not feeling well, he had a flair for extravagance when he was at his best. 

“You are smiling.”

“I was remembering one of Daeron’s performances. He is so good, and he loves the attention. He was been part of Thingol’s Court after all.”

_That was long ago, my love._

_Daeron?_

_Wait for me there. I’m coming._

A moment later Daeron was there, dressed in black jeans and a loose long-sleeved shirt. His golden-brown hair was tied back, and he looked pale and thin. 

Maglor stood and wrapped his arms around his lover. “Are you feeling better?”

Daeron nodded. “I’m just a bit tired. Ómar, I sensed your presence. Are you here to berate me for the silent birds?”

Maglor let Daeron go and he went into Ómar’s arms. They were both children of Ómar, the Maia of Song, and he protected them.

“I would never berate you for feeling sad, Daeron. I came to see how you both were doing, and to show you something. You must remember that life is still good.”

“What is it?” Daeron asked. 

“Look at the Sea,” Ómar said, letting go of Daeron. “Look with your eyes and minds and hearts. Listen to the music of the creatures under the water, and how they rejoice because Arda is healing. They have always been there, but the Secondborn forgot them. Feel their joy and their love for every Man and Elf in these lands.”

Maglor looked, his arm around Daeron’s shoulders, and he saw the creatures of the Sea like he had never before. There were also the Wingildi, the Oarni and the Falmarini, lesser spirits who served Ulmo and his Maiar. 

Salmar was there too, singing softly. 

Lord Ulmo was close, and blew the Ulumúri from time to time. 

Uinen and Ossë moved together, reordering their lord’s realm.

Maglor could see Ulmonan in the distance, and he knew that Daeron was seeing the same things. He could feel his lover’s emotions.

When the vision stopped, Daeron was crying, but his expression was soft, and his heart was calm. He had a seagull in his hands.

_He will be all right. I must leave you now._

Maglor smiled at Ómar and then turned back to his lover. Daeron was speaking softly to the seagull, and then let it go. 

“How do you feel, my love?”

Daeron smiled through his tears. “Life has meaning again, and I can love you without bringing you down with me.”

Maglor gently kissed Daeron’s tears. “Life with you is the only thing that has meaning for me. You would never bring me down. You have saved me from myself, Daeron. Lean on me and let me help you like Ómar did.”

Daeron went into his arms. “You always help me, Maglor. I love you.”

Maglor held Daeron tight and kissed his forehead. He had denied his love for Daeron for millennia, but now they were together, and he would keep his lover safe. “I love you, Daeron,” he whispered, and after a soft kiss they started the way back to the house.


End file.
